


your strain, it gets under my skin

by tgrsndshrks



Category: Marilyn Manson (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Come Eating, Dry Humping, Hand Jobs, M/M, Painplay, Piercings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-16
Updated: 2017-01-16
Packaged: 2018-09-17 20:34:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9342500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tgrsndshrks/pseuds/tgrsndshrks
Summary: “Oh, that's John Lowery,” Brian says, when Tim questions him and Trent about it during lunch the next day. “He does piercings in the art wing bathroom for cheap. He plays guitar in a band so he gets into bars all the time even though he's only nineteen.”or, john's a shitty delinquent who gives people piercings in the school bathroom. tim's an exchange student who gets one on a dare. the fact that he keeps going and getting more is sort of on account of his weird crush on john and not at all because he keeps getting pain boners. nope.





	

**Author's Note:**

> hey cool first fic of 2017. may this year be as packed with garbage as the previous one
> 
> this was based on [a prompt on the kyluxhardkinks blog](http://kyluxhardkinks.tumblr.com/post/155364350917/kylo-is-that-one-kid-in-school-who-gives-piercings) except i don't write kylux. so here it is with john and tim.
> 
> i was gonna write this the other way around, with tim being the sadistic bathroom creep and john the dweeb who accidentally discovers his pain kink. but then julia was like nah dude switch it around. which sort of ended up more interesting?
> 
> didn't tag it with nine inch nails since trent is only a side character. the title is from sin by nine inch nails though so there's that. i've just been listening to them a lot i guess.
> 
> i think that's it. OH WAIT DISCLAIMER: they're both over 18, and also go to a fucking professional piercing shop. don't let weirdos in bathrooms give you unsanitary ones. no matter how pretty they are.

The cool thing about going to a new school in an entirely new country is that Tim doesn't know anyone. It's also the shitty thing, because Tim has exactly two friends, and he doesn't particularly like either of them.

There's the kid he lives with through the foreign exchange program, Brian, who's probably the biggest loser he's ever met. He has bottle black hair and tries to sell bootleg metal albums between classes. Then there's Brian's only friend Trent, who's pretentious, with a distinctive nose, and plays piano in band. Tim eats lunch with them because he figures, better to just be no one for his only semester here in the states.

They're also in fucking chess club, because of course they are. Tim's not technically a member, but since the meetings are during lunch on Mondays, there's not exactly anywhere else for him to go. He just eats his lunch and sits there on his phone the rest of the hour, till they have to go to class.

Tim slips out early one Monday to take a leak. There's a bathroom on the way to his next class. When he pushes the door open, there's at least half a dozen people huddled around a sink, hollering. Tim stands there for a moment, till the center of attention turns towards the door, and waves a needle at him.

“Dude, close the door,” the guy says. He's blonde, with lipstick on, and he's wearing a shirt that's more holes than shirt. It's held together with safety pins, and his pants have chains hanging off them, and Tim thinks for a moment that this whole outfit can't possibly be within the dress code. But Tim closes the door nonetheless.

He locks himself in a stall, because fuck peeing in front of an audience. Tim gathers from what he overhears that this goth dude is actually piercing one of the other guy's noses with the needle he'd been threatened with. When Tim comes out to wash his hands, goth dude is pushing a barbell into place and the guy sitting on the sink is whacking at the mirror with both hands to keep from yelling.

Tim wonders if this is all sanitary, since it is taking place in a school bathroom, but doesn't say anything, just washes his hands at the other sink and goes to class.

//

“Oh, that's John Lowery,” Brian says, when Tim questions him and Trent about it during lunch the next day. “He does piercings in the art wing bathroom for cheap. He plays guitar in a band so he gets into bars all the time even though he's only nineteen.”

“He's older than all the other seniors because his birthday's in summer,” Trent says. “I hear he's got a girlfriend with like, triple Ds. I think he's goth or something. He has a bunch of tattoos.”

“I heard he has like, two dozen piercings, half of which are in his dick,” Brian says. “Like, a ladder up the underside or something. Some kid told me it's supposed to make the girl feel better during sex.”

“Oh,” Tim says, furrowing his brows. “I mean, _that_ sounds painful, but this kid was like, trying not to yell getting his nose pierced. It can't be that painful.”

“Go do it yourself then,” Brian says. “I'm not letting that kid anywhere near me with a needle, even if he says they're sterile.”

“Me either,” Trent says.

“I'll do it,” Tim says, because either he wants to look cool in front of his only friends or because he wants to know more about this kid John Lowery. Brian gives him a look.

“You're gonna get tetanus,” Trent says.

“He says the needles are sterile, right?” Tim asks. “It's whatever. I'll do it. Gimme the money and I'll do it.” Brian's already in his wallet, fishing out some cash.

“There,” he says. He smacks two twenties down on the table. “If you don't do it I want my money back and you owe me interest."

“Whatever,” Tim says, taking the bills. “Why is all your money the same color? What if you mix up two bill values and give somebody a hundred when you meant to give them five?” Brian and Trent just look at him. “Dude, the money in Sweden is different colors.”

“I never even thought of that,” Trent says, chewing his pen cap. 

//

Tim spends the entire class period before lunch on Wednesday trying to figure out what, exactly, to get pierced. He figures he could get something normal, like his ears, or maybe his septum since that'd be easy to hide. He considers, for a moment, a nipple, but that's probably way too much for a first piercing.

When Tim walks into the bathroom, John's sitting up on the counter in the corner, steel cap boots propped up on the paper towel dispenser. His pants are all torn and covered in patches, and he's writing in a notebook, so he doesn't notice Tim till the bathroom door shuts behind him.

“Hey,” John says. “You're back. That kid freaking out didn't scare you off?” He sets his notebook down.

“I wanna get a piercing through the cartilage of my ear?” Tim says, gesturing to his ear, as if John wouldn't know where it was.

“Yeah, sure,” John says, hopping down off the counter. He goes over to Tim, looks at his ear. “I can do that. Twenty bucks?” Now that John's closer, Tim can see exactly what Brian had mentioned – a handful of piercings. His ears, his lips, his septum, even the bridge of his nose. Tim's wordlessly handing over Brian's cash, too taken by how... uh, _pretty_ John is. Not that Tim's never been attracted to dudes. John's just. Different. “You got any piercings I can't see?” John remarks. “Or is it your first?”

“Uh, first,” Tim chokes out. John pats the counter and Tim obediently slides up onto it, folding his hands in his lap.

“Alright, just gotta ask,” John says, as he's digging in his bag. He pulls out a clamp, a bottle of rubbing alcohol, a Sharpie, and a few packets Tim can't see the contents of. John's nails are painted black. “Sometimes kids come in wanting something boring but have a secret dick piercing or something.” Tim's eyebrows must furrow because John snorts a laugh. “M'just gonna clean you up with some alcohol and then mark where the piercing goes. Once the needle's in I'm gonna have to finagle the jewelry in a bit but ear piercings barely hurt.”

“Okay,” Tim says, but he's thinking something along the lines of _yeah, sure, of course you think ear piercings feel like nothing because you've had needles in your dick_. He doesn't mention it. He's not sure John knows everyone's talking about his half a dozen dick piercings and he sure doesn't want to be the one to break the news, especially when John's about to stick a needle through his ear.

“C'mere,” John says, bringing his hand to Tim's head. The alcohol pad is cold on Tim's skin but he focuses on the warmth of John's fingers and steady breathing. Once he's cleaned up, John picks up the clamp, seems to consider it, then sets it back down. “M'gonna eyeball it.”

“Sounds professional,” Tim remarks, despite himself. He half expects to get smacked on the back of his head or told to fuck off, but nope. John giggles, and it's precisely the opposite of the noise Tim would expect to come out of him. It's practically musical.

“No, really, it's way easier to do cartilage piercings without the clamp,” John says. “Don't worry about it. Just gotta get in there and find your sweet spot.” Tim feels his face blush, but if John notices, he doesn't say anything. He just uncaps the Sharpie and examines Tim's ear, carefully dotting a spot. Then, John grabs a packet, which Tim can now see contains a needle. John tries to open it twice, then resigns to just tearing it open with his teeth, which ruins any illusion of sterility. “Ready?” John asks, bringing the needle up to Tim's ear.

“Yeah, sure,” Tim says. He can hear his own heartbeat and he can feel his knuckles start to ache as they're clenched around the edge of the counter, and he's kind of half hard, but he blames that on his nerves.

“Breathe in,” John says, and when Tim inhales, John pushes the needle through. Tim sucks in another sharp breath at the pain, and his eyes water, but once John lets go, Tim turns to look in the mirror. There's the needle, just stabbed through his ear. It hurt, yeah, but it's good. Tim feels lightheaded, but he could do it again.

John's torn open another packet, this one with a curved barbell in it. Tim turns his head back to allow John to replace the needle with the jewelry. It's another quick pinch, but then John screws the other little ball into place, and Tim's kind of overwhelmed with adrenaline.

“Looks good,” John says. Tim slides off the counter, looks at himself. It's not half bad.

“I'm still not sure if it suits me,” Tim admits. He still looks like a boring exchange student with no friends.

“Eh,” John says. “It's kind of unexpected. That's what makes it hot.” Tim blushes again and John tidies up the counter. He's explaining how to take care of the piercing, but Tim doesn't really hear that, because he's distracted by the mere thought of John finding him attractive. “Hey,” John says, and Tim jerks his head to look at him, the word bringing him back to the real world. “You're the exchange student, yeah? Tim?”

“Uh, yeah,” Tim says, surprised that people, let alone people like John, know he exists.

“You should let me shave the sides of your head sometime,” John says. “It'd look rad.”

The warning bell rings and Tim hurries off to class, hoping no one notices him or his new piercing, or the fact that he's trying to use his textbook to cover up his half boner.

//

Tim jerks off that night, thinking about John's hands all over him, John's black painted nails.

//

“I'm not gonna lie,” Trent says. “I didn't think you were actually gonna do it.”

“Yeah,” Brian says. “When we got in the carpool after school I was actually kinda pissed I wasn't getting my money back.”

“I actually kinda like it,” Tim admits, pushing the food around his tray with his fork. “Like, it's not awful. I might get a couple more just to like, even it out.”

“I'm not gonna fund any further unsanitary body modifications,” Brian says. “Just don't get anything stupid or my mom is gonna send you back to Sweden.”

//

Over the course of the next month, Tim lets John stab half a dozen more holes in his ears. He also totally lets John buzz his hair into a mohawk, because, like, John said it'd look good. John's never been wrong.

//

It takes Tim two weeks of preparation to finally get a piercing that isn't in his ears. When he finally shows up in John's bathroom again, John just smiles at him.

“About time you came in again,” he remarks, still on his perch in the corner of the counter. Tim's never seen John around the school anywhere but here. He sort of wonders if this thing is that lucrative for him, or if he just gets some sick satisfaction out of it. Tim pushes the thought away.

“How much for a nipple piercing?” Tim asks, cutting to the chase. John visibly starts.

“I mean, I've only ever done my own,” he admits. “Nobody's been brave enough to let me do it here. I'll do it free if you'll be my guinea pig.” Tim ignores the part of him that's finding that off-putting and focuses on the part that finds it alluring.

“Deal,” Tim says. John grins, hopping down off the counter. Tim locks the door behind him just in case.

“I think this'll be easiest if you lay down on the floor,” John says, as Tim's pulling his shirt off. John grabs his leather jacket, tosses it down for Tim to lay on so he's not on the bare tile. Tim sits on the floor, laying back as he watches John dig in his bag again. His breathing is already quickened, and he swallows thickly as John kneels down to wipe at Tim's nipple with one of the alcohol pads. John's got the clamp this time. Tim pulls the leather jacket up around his shoulders, expecting to smell cigarette smoke, but instead it's just warm. John wipes the clamp with alcohol, then goes to position it, but hesitates.

“What's wrong?” Tim asks.

“Just, kind of an awkward angle,” John says. “Hang on.” And before Tim can realize it, John's climbing on top of him, straddling him and sitting comfortably on him. John's small and his weight isn't overwhelming. It's nice. Very nice. John centers the clamp and clicks it into place, the pinch making Tim wince a bit. “That's the worst part, honestly. The clamp hurts more than the needle,” John says, tearing the paper needle packet open.

“Somehow, I don't believe you,” Tim says, but John just smiles. He's lining the needle up.

“Okay, count of three,” John says. Tim panics a little, unsure if he means _on_ three or _after_ three. “One, two, three -”

Apparently it's _after_ three. Tim cries out with the pain of it, sucks a gasp in. The breath he lets out is all shaky, and John's eyes widen a little, but Tim still looks right at him.

“Jeez, okay,” John says, looking a little unsure for the first time ever. “It's okay. Don't move.” As if Tim could move with John sitting on top of him. Which, now that he thinks about it, is inconvenient, considering he's sort of getting hard. “Keep breathing and I'll put the barbell in, yeah? One, two, three.” Tim hisses again, but the pain of the jewelry pushing into place isn't as bad. He looks down and he's bleeding a little, but John thumbs it away, which definitely isn't sanitary.

John sits back to admire his handiwork, and Tim accidentally whines out loud as his weight shifts against his erection. Shit. When did that happen? More importantly, how? He always thought pain was supposed to make him less hard, yet here he is. Rather embarrassingly, John seems to hear that whimper, and glances to meet his eyes.

“You too?” he asks, and it's only then when Tim looks down to see John's hard in his black jeans.

“I, um,” Tim says, but John's already grinding into him. “ _Shit_.”

“C'mere,” John says, folding himself down over Tim and kissing him. John licks into his mouth and Tim kisses him back, feeling the tongue piercing he didn't know John had. He bites at John's lips, sucking the rings into his mouth. John bucks his hips down into Tim's at the sharp pain of his piercing being pulled. “Ah,” John gasps, Tim's hands grabbing at his shoulders. John's mouth moves to Tim's neck, below his ear, sucking at the skin. Tim's fucking turned on at how much John is turned on, the whole piercing process enough to have him this needy. Tim can feel John hard against him, and just pulls him into it, their hips shoved together.

“Fuck, yes,” Tim gasps, John's mouth traveling lower and finding a collarbone.

“Wanna pierce you here, too,” John says, a hand reaching between them to grab Tim through his jeans. Tim gasps, bucks up into the contact.

“Yeah?” he asks, and John's mouth just moves lower, closes around the nipple that isn't pierced, and bites. “Shit,” Tim hisses, the sharp pinch different from the dull ache in the other, but equally good. John's fumbling with Tim's belt, scraping at his skin with his teeth.

“I'd do it if you wanted it,” John says, sitting up to get his own belt open. Tim sort of realizes John is doing all the work, so he pushes John's hands out of the way and undoes his jeans himself, shoving them down. John's cock comes free, and Tim's a little surprised to find it's cut but otherwise unmodified – not a barbell or a ring in sight. He doesn't mention it, just spits in his hand and starts working him as John gets his fingers into Tim's jeans, purring. “I've never been with an uncut guy before,” he says, and Tim feels himself blush.

“I've, uh, never been with a cut guy,” he says, and John laughs once, laying his hips down into Tim's and trying to get his hand around both of them at the same time, but it doesn't really work on account of his hands being too small, so Tim does it instead. John moans, dicks into Tim's fist.

“I could pierce that,” John remarks, and Tim jerks in his grip, thinking about the rush of adrenaline. “I don't know if it's a thing people keep in, but I could do it just for fun.”

“You have a skewed idea of fun,” Tim says, his free hand pulling John's mouth closer to his, “but I like that.” John kisses him, gasps against his lips, lengths sliding against each other through Tim's fingers. “I'd let you do it.”

“Yes, hell yes,” John says, whimpering. His hand goes between them, fingers prodding at the fresh piercing, and Tim stifles a cry, the flesh swollen and sensitive. “Is that good?” John asks, and Tim nods, so he does it again.

“Shit, m'gonna cum,” Tim chokes out, and John nods him on.

“Yeah, me too, do it,” he says, pierced tongue laving over his jaw, and Tim bucks up, spilling onto his stomach and over his fingers, and John fucks into it, chasing his own orgasm. Tim squeezes and that seems to be enough to send him over the edge, his teeth biting at Tim's throat, keening high and long. Tim works John through it till he pulls back, and Tim lets go as John mouths down his chest, starts licking away the mess they'd made. He even pulls Tim's fingers into his mouth to clean them up.

“Holy shit,” Tim says, sliding wet fingers over the rings in John's lips.

“Are you ready for me to do the other nipple?” John asks, smiling behind Tim's fingertips.

“Fuck, yes,” Tim says. The late bell probably rang long ago.

//

Tim's sitting on the floor with Brian and Trent that afternoon. Brian's playing some video game where he keeps dying over and over and every time the words YOU DIED come up across the screen in big red letters. Trent's writing in his notebook but keeps looking over at Tim suspiciously, through narrowed eyes.

“Dude,” Trent says, “what _is_ that.”

“What is what?” Tim asks, looking at him from the TV.

“What's the mark on your neck?” Trent asks. Tim frowns, but a brief flash of panic shoots through him. Brian pauses his game and twists around as Tim's opening his phone, flipping to the front facing camera. He cranes his neck back, and sure enough, there's red lines there from John's teeth.

“Uh, shit,” Tim says, trying to cover them up, but Brian's already wrenching his hand away.

“Is that where you were all lunch and sixth period?” Brian asks. “Getting laid?”

“No,” Tim says quickly. “Just, uh. Must've scratched myself.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Brian says, letting his wrist go. “If you don't tell me who she is I'm gonna figure it out myself.” Tim just snorts a laugh, thankful he's wearing a baggy sweater so they can't see the faint outline of his newest piercings. 

“You're never gonna guess,” Tim says. “Don't worry about it.”

**Author's Note:**

> john definitely started the dick piercing rumor himself to seem like a hard ass but he's totally a lame ass baby who pretends to be metal af. but it's fine because we still love him


End file.
